


mirrorball

by trappednightingale



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29449623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trappednightingale/pseuds/trappednightingale
Summary: Star Wars Soulmate Month 2021: Day 14 [Feel your soulmate’s feelings.]Din has been floating in loneliness for so long. He's not sure what to do when he realizes this loneliness is not entirely his own.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 216
Collections: Star Wars Soulmate Month 2021





	mirrorball

One of the earliest parts of Din’s training included a thorough review of what life with a soulmate was like. Although it was rare for Mandalorians to even have soulmates, it wasn’t unheard of, and so Din had been warned along with the other Foundlings about what it meant to experience feelings that weren’t their own.

“You may experience pain that is not your own. Grief, anger, and sometimes even joy. These are all natural things to experience, but they do not supersede the Creed. This is the Way.”   
  
“This is the Way.” Din repeated, feeling a sense of loneliness that he knew was entirely his own.

* * *

  
The only time Din can ever really remember it being an issue, it had been well over a decade since he first became aware of his connection. He was in the middle of a mission, when a wave of grief overtook him, immediately followed by immeasurable amounts of pain emanating from his wrist. He wasn’t sure what sensation was worse, but it took him days to center himself again, to isolate himself from the overwhelming downpour of pure misery his soulmate was experiencing. 

Once he was done with his mission, he took the time to get a room for the night, where he could have hot running water. He scrubbed at his face, making a noise as his fingers scratched over the scruff he’d grown in his days under the helmet. Looking up at his own reflection, he sighed, weariness seemingly etched into his very soul. Wherever his soulmate was, he hoped things had gotten better, that they weren’t suffering so badly anymore. But that dull ache in his chest and his wrist confirmed not only that his soulmate was still living, but that they were nowhere near okay. He finished cleaning up his face with the razor, and for a second, he swore the eyes staring back at him were clear blue.

* * *

He’s not sure what he’s expecting when the Jedi picks up his s-- Grogu. When the Jedi picks up Grogu. But he’s certainly not expecting the sharp intake of breath as Grogu toddles away from him, the Jedi staring at Din--not at his helmet, at  _ Din _ \-- with a look of pure misery that does not simply compliment Din’s own, but is in fact a perfect reflection. The Jedi nearly stumbles when he picks up Grogu, brow furrowing as he stares up at Din, expression slowly cycling through surprise and understanding. 

All at once, Din realizes that the Jedi will be helpless but to look after Grogu, to keep him safe, to protect him with his life, to love him, even.

After all, Din is the same.

* * *

They don’t talk about it, don’t address it, just go their separate ways after he takes the kid. And the thing is, that it’s fine. It’s manageable. So, Din knows who his soulmate is. That doesn’t supersede the Creed. This is the Way.

But what starts as a low ache turns into more and more of a burn, a distraction from any and every job that Din takes. It’s fine, it’s manageable. Until it’s not, and Din finds himself waking with a gasp, feeling almost consumed by the gaping hole of loneliness that echoes through his entire being. He’d felt alone nearly his whole life, he’d gotten used to the feeling, but this is worse somehow, more insistent, more demanding.

It takes him nearly a whole cycle to track down the Jedi, to find where his school is hidden. A whole cycle of hunting down people who know people who have a vague idea of where the Jedi has run off to. He finally gets an audience with Senator Organa, who greets him with an odd quirk of her lips that isn’t quite a smile. 

“You’re looking for my brother.” She states, pursing her lips, eyes flashing almost dangerously as she stares Din down, even through the guise of his helmet.

He’s not sure what he was planning to say when he opened his mouth, something about his son, perhaps, or something to assuage her concerns over his intentions. What comes out is “He has my soul.”

She looks surprised for a brief moment before her cool mask slides back into place and she crosses the room to her desk, rummaging around for a moment before securing a datachip that she carefully places in Din’s gloved hand.

“Soulmates are a rare thing, Mandalorian.” She says quietly, hand resting in his for a moment. Her eyes are shining as she looks up at him, with something akin to joy. Din makes a questioning noise, and she shakes her head, still smiling. “He’s never had anyone before. Look after him, won’t you?” With that, she curls her fingers over his, closing his hand around the datachip and pushing him away. 

He takes her dismissal for what it is, feeling strangely raw alongside the emptiness he’s been feeling, as though she’s just ripped him open from nothing more than a look. 

It is not until he is punching in the coordinates that he realizes what she said, the word  _ ‘brother’  _ echoing in his mind. 

He’s still turning it over in his mind, trying to figure out how a former prince of Alderaan is also a Jedi, when he arrives at his destination. As the door to his ship lowers, his heart stutters to a stop, suddenly overcome with joy and elation that he knows for a fact is not his own. He looks up, meets the Jedi’s gaze from across the hangar and his breath catches in his throat. For all his calm facade, the Jedi’s eyes are dancing, and Din feels as though he is being punched in the stomach with every wave of joy that crashes through him. He is unsteady on his feet as he walks down the ramp, the joyful squeal coming from the bundle in the Jedi’s arms still not enough to drown out the waves of elation that are echoing through his very soul. 

“Hi.” He says weakly, leaning down to scoop up Grogu after his son wriggles free from the Jedi.

“Hi.” The Jedi responds, a slight smile on his lips. “You found us.”

“I’m a bounty hunter. Finding people is what I do.”

The Jedi just hums, steps closer, the smile not fading from his lips or eyes. “We haven’t properly met. I’m Luke.”

Din doesn’t even hesitate before answering, knowing that if there’s one person in the world he can trust with this information, it’s the man in front of him, his  _ soulmate. _

_ /These are all natural things to experience, but they do not supersede the Creed./ _

“Din Djarin.” He says easily, feeling the weight of the world lift from his shoulders.

“Din Djarin.” Luke repeats, his smile broadening, and it’s the most beautiful sound Din has ever heard. Another wave of joy, this time tinted with affection hits him and he takes another step forward until Din is nearly in Luke’s space, Grogu cooing contentedly between them. Din feels like he can breathe again for the first time in months and he reaches up with one hand to undo the clasp on his helmet, carefully taking it off so he can look at Luke--look at his  _ soulmate _ with his own eyes. He’s beautiful, so incredibly bright that Din almost itches for his helmet again as wide blue eyes take in his own face. He doesn’t feel as self-conscious as he expected to, as Luke’s expression stays soft and full of wonder. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” Luke finally says, eyes lighting up as what must be a ridiculous expression crosses Din’s features.

Grogu’s little trill of baby noises interrupts whatever’s going on between he and Luke, and he breaks his gaze away from the other long enough to look down at his son, to run a gloved finger along his ear. “Thanks for looking out for him.” He says quietly, looking up in surprise when Luke’s answer is a quiet laugh.

“Of course I did.” Luke says, a fond look in his eyes. He cocks his head, looks at Din, a searching look that reminds Din all too much of his frankly terrifying sister. Whatever he finds, his expression goes soft and he reaches out a bare hand. Din awkwardly tugs off his glove before reaching out as well, fingers brushing over the bare skin of Luke’s hand, a jolt going through him at the briefest contact. Luke’s answering smile is blinding.

“After all, we’re the same.”


End file.
